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Our friends on s/y Eva took us on a little road trip to Hout Bay today. We picked up some more green coffee beans, and some hard to find grocery items (black beans!) and then went off to see some natural beauty. The wind was raging (probably 30-40 knots) and kids and adults all enjoyed it’s strength without having to worry about the consequences (save for one lost hat). We finished the day with a fantastic Indian food picnic with a view of the bay and surrounding mountains. ...

The kids eat breakfast, tell us that their schoolwork is done and dash off to see their friends. There are two kid boats here right now (Eva and Yemaya) and five extra kids mean that there is never a dull moment for them. Vick and I take advantage of this new freedom to explore the town’s coffee shops and cafes. In the evening, we go to one of the neighbor’s boats for sundowners, tattoos, or an impromptu party. Life is sure enough good! ...

https://vimeo.com/203095918

The Indian Ocean is not my favorite ocean! Perhaps there has been another blog post of the same name; this is not a fun blog post; or a feelings story. This is just a tally; an acknowledgment that our exhaustion after a year and a half of travel is well earned, and a shoutout to the folks who live that cruiser adage “it’s just what we do [for each other].” We’re not entirely done with the Indian Ocean, but we have certainly crossed it. These nine months on this ocean between Indonesia and South Africa were hard on Convivia and challenging for the crew but as my friend Diane told me a year ago, “The Indian is rewarding.” ...

I’m tucked into the corner of the settee, wedged in with seven pillows so I don’t move and I don’t have to support my own body. The bucket is next to me but I’ve taken my seasick pill and I hope to sleep instead of vomit. The dorade vent that goes under water only drains on the outboard side of the box, so instead, when it fills, water pours on my right shoulder. Some of it makes it into the bucket so I feel pretty clever, but I still don’t want to move much so the pillows and the settee and my down vest get wetter and wetter. ...

Here’s a short but fantastic video done by the same guy that did New Year’s Ink Audio Credit: Ehrling Video Credit: Wayne Willis

One of the things that I have been surprised with over and over on our trip around the world is how many times virtual strangers have offered to level up our experience by showing us their favorite places. On New Year’s Eve we met Wayne, Robyn, Steve, and Mandy and invited them over to Convivia for a little celebration. They showed up with the 3am Delos tattoo party, and before they left had invited to take all seven of us up the Sani Pass to Lesotho. This pass is listed on Dangerous Roads dot com (let that name sink in for a sec) where they make special note of the carcass of 4x4s that didn’t make it, littering the ravine below. Vick was just elated by the proposal (sarcasm). ...

The tradition of [European] sailors tattooing each other dates back to the 1700s when Captain Cook’s crew picked up the practice from the Polynesians. Since then, countless sailors have followed in their intrepid wake. I have chronicled some of my own experiences here, and here, but haven’t spoken much about how we adopted this tradition or how it has evolved in our cruising community. It started simply enough, with a proper anchor tattoo (Rocna), exchanged with a good friend on a buddy boat. In Johor Bahru, another sailor opted in, and since then, many more of our sailing buddies have asked (in spite of my strong disclaimer that I am not a professional) to exchange or receive tattoos. It’s become a bit of a thing. ...

“We need the tonic of wildness… At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.” —Henry David Thoreau You cannot come to South Africa and not go to a game park. That much was clear. Unfortunately our driver’s licences had expired, so the cheap option was off the table. After some deliberation, we hired a guide and it turned out to be a fantastic choice. Throughout the 14.5 hrs we spent with Sibo, we saw: ...

This is where we bid au revoir to this country that has fascinated us with its warmth, diversity, creatures, landscape, and spirit. Majhunga, a city that cruisers alternately describe as “too dangerous” or “enchanting” is far from the crystal clear water of Tany Kely, but promises an easy clearance and provisioning for our trip across the Mozambique channel. Ready as we are to see what lies beyond this next horizon, I feel now that our time here was too short. There were so many places that we sailed by that I would have liked to have lingered in, and so many conversations that (due to my failure to learn the local languages) were not had. ...

Yesterday I unlocked a life achievement. While snorkeling at Tany Kely, I noticed a sea turtle. He was having a leisurely lunch on the reef far below. It was deeper than I normally free dive, but I wanted to chill with him so badly that I just took a breath and went for it.

We have seen lemurs already (in Russian Bay) but all of us were excited to have a better introduction to them at the (locally) famed Nosy Komba lemur park. The island is a weird mix of eco-tourism and authentic Malagash culture. It’s like a cleaned up Nosy Be. The pathways were all kept immaculate and the arts and crafts stalls boasted some of the best finished work we have seen in Madagascar. ...

Brian and Brady offered to take us on a hike today. They promised fields of ylang-ylang and a waterfall swimming hole. We were not disappointed. It’s weird that after all this time on and in the water, I’m still renewed and reinvigorated by fresh water running over me.